


Macchiato

by nyssanys



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series, yu-gi-oh alternative universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Multiple Personality Disorder, bakura is a barista, marik is a freelance photographer, not quite canon, not quite ygotas, ryou is bakura's twin brother, somewhere in between ygotas and canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyssanys/pseuds/nyssanys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bakura and his brother Ryou just moved into a new place and work at a coffee shop in town. Bakura meets a regular named Marik that he finds Interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Macchiato in Italian means stained or spotted. I prefer to go with "spotted." Coffee with a spot of milk. Marik with a spot of Bakura.
> 
> Chapter rating may be changed in the future.

The sound of the motorcycle outside of the coffee shop was not unfamiliar to the other employees. “He’s back,” they said softly to one another, no negativity in their tone at all.

“Who?” Bakura heard his younger twin speak up. Curious, he listened in.

“You’ll see soon enough,” the shift manager said in passing. “He’s a regular here, so you’ll get to know him.” Ryou and Bakura had transferred in from another store. Whenever a new employee was being trained, this was typical conversation. It was a way to introduce the employees to the customers they were probably going to be serving often. For some reason, Bakura felt like the passing whispers were a bit off. Then the manager turned back and whispered, “He’s a little strange, but he’s nice.”

Ah. That was it. They were bracing themselves. 

“Ryou, you’re on bar. Stop gossiping,” Bakura refocused the situation. The manager was out of earshot by then or she probably would have shot him a glance for calling them out. 

Although they weren’t being rude, Bakura didn’t care for that kind of talk especially when it could turn for the worse given more time. 

“Sorry, bro,” Ryou replied sheepishly and turned to clean the bar. There were no customers here at this hour; the store had been dead for the last thirty minutes or so, sans drive through. Bakura had been cleaning, but was now waiting at the register watching through the glass doors for this “strange” customer. He couldn’t help but to be a little curious.

The tanned male burst through the doors and walked right up to the register ready to order until he saw the person on the other side of the counter. “You’re a new face!” He exclaimed a little more excitedly than Bakura had quite been expecting.

He flinched slight and blinked twice, “Yes…. What can I get started for you to—“

“What’s your name?” The other male’s violet eyes seemed to glimmer as he pressed his palms into the side of the counter, leaning in. 

“Well,” Bakura responded, pointing to his name badge. “That’s what I have this for.”

“But it’s better if you say it. Like ‘Hi, my name is Marik. What is your name?’ Like that. It’s more fun that way.” 

“Marik is it?” Bakura caught himself smiling at the customer’s strange quirkiness, innocent and childlike, but not annoying like a child. 

“Yes, and your name?” 

“Bakura,” he chuckled, paused, and then pointed across the bar to his brother. “That’s Ryou, my twin. We look nothing alike. Don’t confuse us.” 

Ryou overheard him and hissed, “Are you being rude to our customers!? Don’t demand things from them!”

Bakura ignored him. Marik looked between the two for a moment and said, “Yeah, you two are different. He’s a bit shorter than you, and you…” He paused, examining with slightly squinted eyes.

“What about me?” Bakura urged. Impatient.

“You have spikier fringe. Do you layer your hair that way on purpose?” 

“What do you want to drink? Or eat?” Bakura took a step back from the counter. Casual talk with customers was fine, but he suddenly did not want to continue. 

Marik seemed to sense that, but without any change of his happy-go-lucky expression, and placed his order. Bakura typed it up and turned on his heel to get it started. Ryou was busy working on a drive through order and the other employee that was working was outside cleaning the windows. When Bakura turned around, Marik had found a seat. No other customers had walked in so Bakura took the order out to him.

“Thanks,” Marik said taking the drink from the paler male. “Sorry.”

“Why?” Bakura leaned against the arm of the chair across from Marik. “Don’t be.”

“If you say so,” Marik perked up a little more. Funny, it didn’t seem to bother him when they were at the counter. 

Bakura noticed a DSLR in the other’s lap. He hadn’t noticed it before. “You take pictures?”

Marik looked from his lap to Bakura and he sat up, “Yeah! I’m a freelance photographer. Do you want to see? The pictures I mean.”

“Sure.” Marik practically thrust his camera into Bakura’s hands and came around beside him to show him how to look through the photos. After a minute, Bakura was flipping through them and Marik was looking over his shoulder, casually and sometimes excitedly explaining the circumstances of each photo. Bakura had tuned him out almost completely. “Pyramids?” Bakura interrupted Marik and only realized that he had done so because the other made a point of it.

“I just said I went to Egypt last summer. Were you even listening?” Marik huffed.

“Sorry, I wasn’t.” Bakura was blunt. Too blunt for his own good. He saw the hurt in the other’s eyes…but to be fair, Marik was really vocal, literally and physically. His body language spoke volumes when his mouth wasn’t. Bakura cleared his throat, “I…was focused on your photos. Sorry. They’re really good. I mean it.”

Marik did a one-eighty almost instantly and glowed at the compliment. He was about to continue on but Bakura stopped him.

“I have to get back to work. I’ve heard you’re a regular, so I assume I’ll see you again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t meant to be.

“So they told you about me, huh?” his voice was flat. 

“Just that you’re a regular,” Bakura was suddenly concerned. 

“I see.”

Bakura was ready to ask if something was wrong, but his manager was calling him to come do something, “I have to go. Really, they haven’t said anything.” He was lying but only a little. Being weird didn’t have to be negative, but it would come off the wrong way if he had been completely honest. 

“Okay,” Marik said, smiling again. That was better.

Bakura returned to behind the counter and shortly after he heard the motorcycle crank up to leave. 

-  
“Ryou,” Bakura broke the silence of their drive home, “I was just thinking that he seemed lonely.”

“What? Oh. You mean the ‘weird’ customer,” Ryou used air quotes with his index fingers. 

“Marik,” Bakura softly corrected. “His name is Marik.”

“So what exactly are you thinking, brother? Befriending him?” Ryou leaned back in his seat.

Bakura paused. “I don’t know yet. Hard to say from just one instance. What do you think?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. You don’t have very many friends anyway.”

“What do you even mean by that? I have plenty of friends.” Defensive. 

“Back at home,” Ryou corrected. “But what about here? We moved two weeks ago and you haven’t had a single friend over.”

“Neither have you, shy one,” Bakura insisted, still defensive.

Ryou took a gentler approach, “What I mean is, it seems like a good idea. Give it a shot.”

Bakura relaxed, “I’ll give it some more time. If he comes back often enough to have a reputation at the store, then he comes in often enough for me to gage whether or not he actually has friends…or if my instinct is right.”

“Sounds good,” Ryou smiled. 

A pause. Then Bakura started back, “Now what did you mean I don’t have very many friends?”

Ryou sighed, countering him. The two bickered all the way home. They lived together in a small two bedroom apartment. Financially they could not live on their own yet but were working on it. 

“All I’m saying is that you can’t possibly say I don’t have friends or keep them when you haven’t brought a single one home yourself. It just sounds hypocritical,” Bakura spouted as he opened the door, tossing his apron, keys, and wallet on the kitchen counter. 

Ryou also set his things on the counter, sighing heavily, “Look, can we just drop it? I didn’t think you’d get so defensive about this. What’s the deal?”

Bakura sighed equally as heavy and sank into the couch, “Nothing. Let’s just drop it.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

“Perfect. What’s for dinner?”

“It’s late and I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to go to bed,” Bakura heaved himself up onto his feet and took weighted steps to his room.

“Fine. I’m ordering pizza and if you’re not out here to eat it, then too bad,” a vague but playful threat from his younger brother.

Bakura was actually tired and after a shower and a change of clothes he was out like a light in his bed, food be damned. The next morning there was a note on the counter that read “I didn’t eat all the pizza. It’s in the fridge.” Bakura wrote at the bottom in bold, fat letters “HA” and continued his morning routine.


	2. Chapter 2

Some regulars were every day regulars. They would come in, usually once at a certain time, for five or six days a week. These people were usually the nine to five kinds of employees or students. The coffee shop was their routine. There were weekend regulars. They would come in on Friday or Saturday, mostly in the evenings. Apart from weekends there were once a week regulars. Then there are sporadic regulars. They came in often enough to be remembered but they would come almost unpredictably. Marik was a sporadic regular. He didn’t come in the next day, or the day after that. It may have been three or four days. Bakura lost track of the time and almost forgotten him until he heard the motorcycle pull into the parking lot. 

Anzu had the register today and Ryou was working the bar. Bakura was on the floor cleaning tables when Marik pushed the doors open dramatically. “You’re here again!” He exclaimed.

“I would hope so. I do have to make a living,” Bakura countered, his mouth turned in a slight grin. “How have you been?” He turned back to wiping off the table, but glanced up at Marik.

“Great! Actually, I just got back from this epic adventure!” Marik’s eyes glittered and spoke vividly with his hands and gestures. “I went down to the park the other day and—“ he started to recount his adventures of going to a park and seeing animals and the swing set and slide were very important and the trees, oh god the trees, were really slender. In other words, he was getting really excited over some normally dull things, but Bakura didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was weird…but in some odd way adorable in that innocent child like way. Wait…he decided that last time he saw him too, he recalled. 

“So you went to a park and saw things that were normally in a park?” Bakura asked, making sure of what he was hearing.

“Yes! Er—hey! When you put it that way it sounds really stupid! Are you making fun of me?” Marik accused.

“Not at all,” Bakura lied. 

“That sounds sarcastic. Are you being sarcastic with me?” Marik’s eyebrows furrowed and he pouted a little.

“A little,” he replied.

Marik crossed his arms, “Well at least you’re honest. Sort of.”

“Did you go with anyone?” Bakura inquired, moving to clean a different table. 

Marik followed, “No, I didn’t. Why?”

“Curious. That’s all.” A pause. “Usually when people go on adventures to the park they bring someone along with them.” A wide grin appeared on his face, pushing the innuendo. 

Marik either didn’t catch the innuendo or was trying to avoid it, Bakura couldn’t tell. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to say here. What do you even mean by that?”

“I think you know what I mean,” the grin grew just slightly larger.

Marik hesitated, opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Silence followed.

“I was kidding?” Bakura answered, plopping the rag back down into the bucket of water beside him and he stood up straighter. “Would you like something to eat or drink? I could get it started for you.”

“Yes, that would be good,” Marik responded, following Bakura to the counter. “I would like a medium iced mocha and one of those cake things on a stick.”

“Flavor?”

“Cake flavor.”

It took Bakura a second to realize that Marik was not trying to be impertinent but then he turned to Anzu, “I need a medium iced mocha with a birthday cake flavored cake pop.”

“You got it,” she said, typing it into the register.

He rounded the corner and took over Ryou’s place at the bar to make the coffee. Marik watched from over the counter. Anzu put her chin gingerly on Bakura’s shoulder and whispered, “You two get along pretty well. Do you know him?”

Bakura whispered in return, “No, this is the second time I’ve seen him.”

“Strange. You two talk like you’ve been friends forever. You must be good with people. I wouldn’t have guessed it with the way you scowl all the time,” she giggled a bit. 

“I adore back handed compliments,” he replied. Anzu laughed a little louder and turned back to the register. 

“Here you go—“ Bakura set the drink on the counter and pushed it in Marik’s direction. 

“Thanks. Is she your girlfriend?” He inquired, not skipping a beat.

“No, she’s not,” Bakura responded casually. Besides, she was married and wasn’t his type. He wasn’t into girls. 

Marik hesitated from leaving the counter, like he wanted to keep talking but wasn’t sure if he should. Bakura took a quick glance around the store. It was a dead midafternoon hour, most of the prep work for the next shift had been done, and the store manager was not here today. He could afford to talk a bit more. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to the bar and threw together a drink for himself. As he rounded the bar to the front of the store, he pulled off his apron and shot a quick “I’m taking a break” to the shift manager. Marik found his seat in one of the comfier chairs and Bakura plopped down into the one across from him. 

“Was she telling you about me?” Marik didn’t look at him. 

“What about you?” Bakura urged, curious about his insecurity. He brought it up last time too.

“That’s what I’m asking you.” Ah. The avoidance tactic. 

“She asked if we were friends,” he said. “Honest.”

“Okay.”

“Has anyone here been rude to you? Or something?” Bakura knew he was pushing it. He probably should have let it go. Marik was silent for a long moment. Bakura didn’t push anymore. “Don’t worry abo—“

“I overheard once that a couple of people here thought I was strange…but it’s not just here. It seems like everyone I run into thinks I’m weird or annoying or something.”

“Weird is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You don’t understand.” Marik’s voice dropped. That was Bakura’s cue. Time to back up.

“Let’s drop this subject. I didn’t mean to upset you. Marik?”

“Yes, please.”

“Tell me about one of your adventures. The Egypt one.”

“Which one? I go there pretty often,” Marik was perking back up. 

“Whichever one you want to tell me is fine.” Relieved, Bakura sat back in his chair and sipped his frappe while Marik recounted a story. 

“I was born in Egypt!” He said off handedly, but it caught the other’s attention.

“Really? What brings you here?”

“I like it better.”

“I’d like to go one day. My ancestors are from there.”

“Really? But you’re so pale! You and your brother both!”

“We are mostly Japanese at this point in our lineage. I think only about 15% Egyptian. I don’t know exactly where my family came from within the county.”

“I have never seen a Japanese person with natural white hair.”

“Ah that. My brother and I are albino.” At that moment, Anzu interrupted the two calling for help behind the bar. More customers were coming in at this point. “I have to go now.” He said, tossing his now empty cup in the garbage can as he stood up. 

“I um…” Marik began, standing. 

Bakura turned to face him, “Yes?”

“Are we friends?” Marik was determined for an answer, but unsure at the same time about even asking the question in the first place.

Bakura purposely paused, pretending to think on it, “Oh, I suppose we are. Why not?”

Satisfied with that answer Marik turned to leave, “I’ll see you at some point then.” 

“Sure thing.”

-  
Things were moving faster than he had expected them to. Bakura was lounging on the couch absently watching whatever was on TV while he thought about his next move. Bakura had to be careful not to trigger the red flag he had spotted today. Being weird was normal. To be called weird and perhaps even bullied for it was unfortunately normal. To let it get to you, also normal. However, if everyone really thought he was weird, there might be something else going on, assuming he wasn’t exaggerating about the abundant amount of people that thought he was weird. He couldn’t tell much at this point because he had only had two conversations with him. One thing that had seemed to make itself more clear was that Marik was lonely. It was something Bakura had sensed at first but more so today, especially when he talked about his adventures, he called them. He hadn’t mentioned even once friends or even family accompanying him. Did he even have family?

If he didn’t, Bakura could almost instantly relate. Ryou was the only family he had left. Their parents had died in car crash. The vehicle was caught under and oil tanker that had exploded. Everyone near the truck fried instantly. He and Ryou were at school that day. A foster parent took care of them until they were old enough to work and then they were thrust out into the world on their own. Which was fine by Bakura. They were able to take care of themselves pretty well. 

Bakura backtracked, “You’ve only talked to him twice. Maybe he just doesn’t like his family. You shouldn’t assume they’re dead. That’s bad.”

“What?” Ryou overheard his brother mumbling.

“Nothing; I was talking to myself.”

“Whatever, weirdo. What happened today with Marik?”

“We’re friends, I think.”

“You think?” Ryou poured two cups of tea and passed one to Bakura as he sat down next to him.

“Well, it was just sort of determined right when he was leaving and I was getting back to work,” he sipped the tea.

“Is something bothering you about it?” Ryou took the remote from Bakura because his brother had just resorted to flipping channels and it was driving him crazy. He turned on the weather channel for the sake of having background noise. 

“No, the friendship thing is whatever it is. It’s just sudden is all.”

“I getcha,” Ryou smiled, patting Bakura’s head a little firmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bakura fake winced and pushed Ryou’s arm away. “Yeah, yeah.”


End file.
